


Seven Ways to Prove I Love You

by EternalFluffy



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Fluff, Hope's Peak AU, Japanese names, Nonbinary Character, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 20:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalFluffy/pseuds/EternalFluffy
Summary: It was just part of Ouma's nature to doubt and question everything...even Saihara's words of affection. And so, Saihara made it his mission to show them the irrefutable evidence of his love...so they could never again forget its truth.





	Seven Ways to Prove I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> My piece, written for the Saiouma Exchange on Tumblr. My prompt was for something with trans headcanons and fluff or domestic, and Kokichi being nervous when receiving affection. They also said something like: "I just want to spoil Ouma and tell him how beautiful he is", and wow, same?!?!?! You have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this, seriously. This was so much fun to write. 
> 
> I went with a trans male Saihara and a nonbinary Ouma, because those are my personal favorite headcanons for them. Also, as I was writing, I decided to set this in a Hope's Peak Non-Despair setting, just so they could still have their talents and not have to deal with the killing game and everything, since that isn't part of the focus. 
> 
> Be aware: This is slightly OOC and TERRIBLY fluffy. Like, prepare for diabetes, because I made this EXTREMELY SWEET. It's basically just Saihara loving the heck out of Ouma and smothering them with the affection they need, haha. 
> 
> Enjoy this fluffy fluff fest.

“I hate you. Hey, Saihara-chan… I hate you so much. I can’t stand you. Not for one itty bitty second.”

Saihara’s little liar leaned in and nuzzled against his upper arm, and he couldn’t help feeling his heart warming.

The two sat together on a couch in Saihara’s dorm room…classes were over for the day, and they could just be together like this, without anyone else interrupting. And it was wonderful.

“Haha…but we already know that’s a big, fat lie…huh, Ouma-kun?”

“Nuh-uh!” Ouma smirked, even as they moved in closer. “I was lying when I said I wanted to be with you. I’m only using you and preying on your feelings. I’m the Ultimate Supreme Leader, you know. I’d tooootally do that.”

Oh, no. He knew. He knew, without a doubt, that was another lie. But he just humored them, laughing and setting aside his book bag, dropping it to the floor. “Sure. And I’m the Ultimate Mind-reader, remember? I can see right into your heart.”

“Oh no! But you promised you wouldn’t use your powers anymore! My heart has been stripped naked, for your eyes only! Oh dear!”

He laughed again, secure in his partner’s ridiculous teasing. It was…odd…this little relationship they’d formed together. And it had all begun that one terrible, fateful day…

Ouma had decided to pick the lock of Saihara’s door one morning…and walked in just as he was getting dressed. If that hadn’t been his greatest nightmare. Of course, Saihara had panicked. Ouma was the last person he’d wanted to find out… Ouma would tell everyone. Ouma would say horrible, insensitive things to him, bully him, shun him… Ouma would make everyone fear and reject him… But instead…something very, very different had occurred.

Saihara reflexively flinched a tiny bit as Ouma rested their head against his chest. But he knew…he had nothing to fear. They’d shared their secrets…there was a strange, yet deep, measure of trust between them now. And it was incredible.

Ever so slowly, Ouma was opening their heart to him. They hadn’t said a word to any of their classmates…and Saihara had kept their own secret since the day they’d let him know. Though it still pained them both a bit to refer to Ouma as “he” in front of their friends, he knew they weren’t ready just yet…and he would wait for as long as they needed.

Ouma cared for him, as much as they tried to deny it. It was evident, not in their jaunty flirting, but in the way they spoke to him alone, in the way they always came to his aid, whenever he was feeling down, in the way they glowed with happiness whenever he was near. And Saihara felt inexplicably safe, wonderfully loved, when by their side.

Yet…as their little relationship developed, he was beginning to notice a certain something…

Saihara raised his hand…and used it to hold Ouma closer, rubbing into their back, their shoulder…fingers gently trailing up the nape of their neck. They stiffened. Against his body, he felt their heartbeat quicken, pounding in anxiety. Saihara moved in ever closer, pressing their foreheads together, feeling the soft bushel of Ouma’s purple-dipped bangs. Ouma was uncharacteristically silent. Rosy pink flush filled Saihara’s vision as it flared up all over their face.

This always happened… Ouma loved to flirt, snuggle up to Saihara and give him all kinds of loving rubs and embraces…but as soon as Saihara reciprocated…and especially when  _he_  was the one to initiate the affectionate touch…they just fell into an awkward, blushy mess. It was adorable, yes, but…it also kind of concerned him.

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara softly called their name. “You know I love you, right? And I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Eehee…heeheeheehee…” They always giggled like this, too…it was almost…a  _nervous_ laugh. “Silly, silly Saihara-chan.”

Ouma wiggled out of his grasp, pressing a finger to their lips and cracking a devious smile. “I know what you’re up to. Of course I know. You saw how infatuated I was with you, so you decided to play along. I know you’re a sweet little liar, just like me…it’s part of why I love you so much, after all. You mean to capture my heart, and use it as you see fit. I don’t mind, though…… I’m too far gone at this point.”

“Ouma-kun… That’s…that’s another lie, right?”

“Ahaha…of course not.” They placed a hand gently on their bandanna, over their heart. “It only makes sense. Why would a gorgeous, brilliant boy like you ever fall for a detestable villain like me? You wouldn’t, that’s why.”

Saihara felt his heart clench. He hadn’t thought…it was this bad. “Ouma-kun…don’t say that. Even if it’s just a joke, don’t talk about yourself like that.”

But it made a small bit of sense. The rest of their classmates didn’t particularly like Ouma…their pranks and their trollish behavior certainly didn’t win them any favors. And whenever Saihara talked about them, about their relationship, it was always met with doubt–“Are you sure you really want _him_ , Saihara-kun?” “You could do a lot better.” “Did he rope you into this somehow?”

And Ouma…being the habitual liar they were, they had a natural suspicion of  _everything_. It stung a little, knowing that they doubted his feelings. Their trembling whenever he showed them unprompted affection… There was fear deep inside them, fear that Saihara would leave them, fear that they weren’t good enough for him, that all his words, his loving care, was false.

“….I love you, Ouma-kun.” Very gently, very carefully, Saihara took up their slender hand, entwining their fingers. He saw their eyes slightly widen. “But you don’t believe me, do you? I’ve told you over and over…but you don’t really believe me.”

They were suddenly very interested in the edge of the couch. “…Anyone can  _say_  whatever they want. Anyone can just touch someone and say nice things, Saihara-chan. It’s not that hard.”

“Alright, then.”

He’d made up his mind. As soon as those sad words aired out between them, he came to a decision. Saihara was a detective, after all. He was going to prove it to them. Prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his love for Ouma was real. Make them see it, make them believe it…. That he’d chosen them, out of his own free will, that these were the truest feelings of his heart. From now on…he was going to make sure Ouma knew just how loved they really, truly were.

[-1-]

“Are you trying to tame this unruly mop, Saihara-chan?  _Nishishi_! It’s a wasted effort, but I like to watch you struggle in vain…”

Again, Saihara smoothed his hand over the small, round, fluffy ball of Ouma’s head. Together in his room again, he’d decided that tonight, he’d show a special appreciation for one of Ouma’s most wonderful features. Their hair. Saihara wasn’t even sure why, but he loved its softness, its uneven ends, the tinge of lighter purple at the tips, capturing the overhead light.

He sat behind them on the bed and gently ran a comb through one side of their hair. The upturned ends sprang right back up, no matter how many times he pulled them down, and they snickered every time they felt them bounce back into place.

“It’s hopeless, you know. It’s never going to stay down. It’s because of my evil aura…it’s just too powerful. It’s always crackling around me like static electricity. You can’t make me look like a decent human being, Saihara-chan.”

“That was never my intention.”

A tiny flutter went through Saihara’s heart as he raked one hand through those springy strands, feeling the softness between his fingers. Letting go, their hair fluffed up all the more, even more strands turning upwards…and it was painfully cute.

“I like your hair. It’s so soft.”

“Heheheh! I know, right? It’s fun to play with, right? But that’s why it’s always a mess. I can’t do anything cute with it or anything, cause it just goes everywhere.”

That’s where they were wrong.

“Shh,” Saihara gently whispered…and took up the comb again. Tenderly, he brushed Ouma’s hair, despite their continued giggles, and gathered it in places, slipping delicate fingers through the fluffy sections.

Raking back their right bang, he slipped several sparkly, rainbow-colored barrettes into it, keeping it pinned just behind their ear. And on the left side, he lovingly brushed the bangs out of their face, despite how that face was subtly flushing, and fastened them with a bigger barette, adorned with a beautiful, crinkly, pastel lavender flower. Finally, from the bottom, Saihara skillfully slid the long sections of hair into elastics.

Each elastic band was a ring of tiny white daisies, and they fit perfectly, holding their hair into two fluffy little pigtails, which puffed out just below their ears. The bouncy waves formed flipped little tufts, like beloved paintbrushes dabbed in purple.

“It’s a lie,” Saihara whispered to them. He pulled out the hand mirror he’d prepared, and wrapped his arms around Ouma, holding it out in front of them. “Because look…look at how cute that is. That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And Ouma fell back against him, utterly overwhelmed.

_I love your hair. I love the way you look. Why else would I do this for you?_

[-2-]

“Ugh…” Saihara was lying face down on his desk after class had just ended.

It didn’t happen very often, but…sometimes, even  _he_  ended up with a low grade on a test. It had only been a 75%, enough to pass, but Saihara was so hard on himself, he just couldn’t stand it. The pressure on him to excel…his talent was intelligence-based, after all. Not succeeding with flying colors dug in at him, reminded him that he still had miles and miles to go before he could really be a true detective. Did he even have the right to call himself a detective after…? People’s lives, people’s hearts were resting on his shoulders, he couldn’t be so pathetic…!

Just as tears began to poke at the back of his eyes, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Saihara-chan, Saihara-chan! Lookit what I got!”

Saihara lifted his head to the somewhat comforting sight of his grinning little trickster, holding out a small package towards him. It was plain cardboard, stamped with an apparent postal seal.

“I ordered this for you last week and it finally came in! You gotta open it! I can’t wait to see what you think!”

It was obviously some kind of joke, but Saihara weakly smiled anyway and accepted the package, setting it on his desk. “Uh, okay…”

With a pair of scissors, he carefully cut the string holding it together, and Ouma excitedly rocked back and forth on the balls of their feet, tucking their arms behind their head as always. “Oooh, I hope you like it! I spent a lot of time picking it out!”

“Aha. Sure you did.” A part of Saihara didn’t feel up to engaging with Ouma’s japes. He was…such a failure, after all.

_Poppoppoppoppoppop!_  “Ah!!”

As soon as Saihara lifted a flap, a multitude of confetti and streamers and tiny origami papers in the shape of Ouma’s face came bursting out, spilling all over his desk and all over the floor. The inside of the box was lined with paper in the same black-and-white checkerboard pattern as their bandanna, and a big note card popped up from the center, with something written and drawn on it in bright blue marker.

Saihara squinted suspiciously at it. “Congratulations!” It read. “You’ve won an extra special delivery of Lord Ouma’s Rainbow Love Sauce, for being such an excellent boyfriend! Seriously! You’re the bestest!” And at the bottom was a cartoony rendition of Ouma themself, wrapping a literal rainbow around a surprised Saihara.

“Pff.” Despite how low he’d been feeling, Saihara couldn’t help but muffle a laugh. It was just so absurd and slightly unexpected. He’d been anticipating bugs or a series of smaller boxes.

“Yaaaaay!” Ouma cried, breaking into joyous applause. “You did it! Amazing, Saihara-chan!”

A few of their straggling classmates turned to glance in their direction with curiosity. It probably would’ve been embarrassing if they actually paid attention, but thankfully, no one tried to walk over and investigate, probably because they didn’t want to get caught up in Ouma’s shenanigans.

“But wait–there’s more! Look a little closer!”

“Uh…” Saihara leaned in, taking a good look at the inside of the box. And then…

“Ahhpff!” Suddenly, something sprayed him in the face. It tasted kind of sweet, as it dribbled down into his mouth. Some kind of…strawberry-flavored frosting?

Ouma was smiling so brightly when Saihara lifted his head again, face smeared with the sweet, fluffy multicolored cream. And they detonated another popper in their hands, doing a goofy little dance in the shower of confetti that followed. “Thou hast been blessed! Thy holy baptism is complete! From this moment on, thou shalt be dubbed ‘Ultimate Boyfriend’! Aaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaah!”

And he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Saihara let his laughter bubble out, let the ridiculous trembling inside him shake and soothe his insides, letting his self-doubt and self-criticisms float away. His fingers brushed over his heart, practically feeling its burdens lightening as he chuckled and beamed and licked at the frosting near the corner of his mouth.

Ouma did a merry spin and hopped closer to his side, their purple eyes wide and twinkling. “Aw, Saihara-chan, lookit you, you’re a mess.” They reached up and ruffled his hair, loosing a shower of glitter, and flicked his antenna of hair. “You glitterbug. But I suppose that’s what the World’s Best Boyfriend looks like, huh?  _Nishishi_!”

Saihara’s breath hitched in one last chuckle, and he looked back to the wonderful, unpredictable, special person beside him…and tucked them into a hug. “How did you know…?”

“Heehee…I know everything. I have a secret underground information network, duh. Any Supreme Leader worth their salt would know that much.”

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara could feel the thumping of their heart, and pulled back, sensing a perfect opportunity. He cupped their cheek, guiding their gaze upwards. “Do you see this? Do you see this smile on my face?”

Their eyebrows pinched just a bit, happiness at odds with anxiety, though they kept silent, waiting.

“It wouldn’t be here if not for you. I don’t know how, Ouma-kun…but you always manage to cheer me up. You brought me the best gift of all…laughter to chase away my pain. You make me so happy, Ouma-kun…and this smile is proof enough.”

They couldn’t respond in words…but they tucked their head close into his embrace, and he held them tight.

_I love you for your pure heart that spreads laughter and mirth. You can rid my heart of fear and sadness with your light. It’s plain as the newborn smile on my face._

[-3-]

Kokichi Ouma was one of the worst students in class, that much was a given. It wasn’t that they weren’t clever enough, no, not at all…but they often grew bored and antsy sitting in class, and stopped paying attention to the teacher after about three minutes. Instead, they would tinker with things in their desk, pester their surrounding classmates with pencils and paper wads, and take every opportunity to interject with something ridiculous and stupid during the teacher’s lecture.

In fact, most of the time, they tended to just skip class altogether, though they’d been showing up a lot more often recently, just because they wanted to see more of their boyfriend, which Saihara found kind of heartwarming. Half the time, Ouma was punished with cleaning duty, though they often skipped that, too, unless Saihara was also there to help.

At any given time, they were always in danger of failing and having to repeat the grade. But fortunately, Saihara was always there, his presence urging Ouma to finish their work. They couldn’t let themself slip behind and fall into another class that he wasn’t in, after all!

And there was one thing that was evident, from every time they sat and did their homework together–Ouma was actually  _brilliant_. They were practically a child genius, speeding through writing and calculations like they were simple babies’ puzzles, and it always amazed Saihara to see them power through stacks of make-up homework, their soft purple eyes squeezing in concentration, their hand holding the pen moving faster than a machine.

Ouma never showed their true brilliance in front of anyone else in class–they’d give joke answers when called on, they’d purposefully mess up a graph just to make it look “cool”, or they’d simply doze off on their desk. It was a shame, because Saihara knew everyone would be just as impressed as he was. But at the same time, it made him feel extra privileged…there was another special side of Ouma that only he got to see, only he got to appreciate. And it was amazing and wonderful.

On that particular afternoon, the two of them were sitting together at a desk towards the back of the library, while Saihara worked on his Talent Assignment. Every now and then, the students of Hope’s Peak were assigned projects relating to their specific talents, and the most recent one was due tomorrow.

Saihara had a dummy case file, filled with fictional evidence and a fictional murder mystery to solve, and he had the pieces spread out over the desk as he mulled it over. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet been able to figure it out, so he’d asked Ouma to look over it with him, maybe give him some new ideas. He hoped Ouma had their own assignment done already–whatever the heck a Supreme Leader could do to practice their leadership.  

The small liar was craning over the gathered props, taking a close look at all of them, while Saihara went over his notes so far. “Did you do a fingerprint analysis on that syringe? Would they even think to put fake fingerprints on it?”

“Yes. And I’m sure they would–they did it in my last kit. But whoever used it–or well, the character–was apparently wearing gloves.”

At their request, Saihara showed Ouma his notes. And it only took them a few minutes to speak up. “…What if it was a suicide?”

“Huh?” Saihara honestly hadn’t even thought of that possibility. “But why…?”

“It says Ms. B held a grudge again Mr. E, right? She could’ve just stumbled across the guy, already dead, and decided to make it look like he did it. A lot of evidence points to him, right? But you were clearly doubting it.”

“That…makes a lot of sense…” The more Saihara thought about it, the more pieces started falling into place. “It could have…”

“And there weren’t really any signs of a struggle. If you’d been taken by surprise and injected with poison, you would definitely struggle–or at least try to get revenge on your killer before your life expired. It makes sense if you think that he  _wanted_  to die…”

“That’s…pretty morbid. But I think you’re right.” Saihara began writing on his note sheet again, connecting all the pieces, all the little things that would be cleared up with this new angle. “Wow…thanks, Ouma-kun. You really helped me out.”

Ouma crossed their arms and turned to him with a haughty air. “It’s really pathetic that I have to do your own job for you. You really need to step up your game, Saihara-chan.”

“Aha…” Saihara knew by now that their insults were just lies. After all, if they really thought that way about him, they wouldn’t still be here. “I’m sorry. Maybe I can help you with your homework in return…?”

“ _Nishishi_! Nice try. But my assignment’s _top secret_ , you know. It’s confidential, under strict orders from the government. And I did it yesterday, anyway.” Ah, at least that answered that question.

Saihara couldn’t help smiling as he began to fill in the rest of his case summary and conclusion. “Still, truly, thank you. You’re really amazing, Ouma-kun.”

“Well, that’s obvious, duh! I’m the Supreme Leader of the entire world!” Ouma huffed…but when he glanced at their face, he could see a very slight flush underneath their indignant expression. Of course. They hid their own intelligence all the time, so…it was never really acknowledged or appreciated like this.

Saihara reached over and gently rubbed the top of Ouma’s head. Though they squawked about being treated like a child, he could tell that they really loved it. “You’re a genius,” he plainly told him. “You truly are incredible.”

And though they chuckled and teased him and tried to act like a snob, he could just feel their flustered happiness at such compliments. Saihara brushed over their forehead one last time.

_I love you for this crazy, brilliant mind of yours. This wonderful mind that you only share with me alone. That’s why I always come to you for help. Because I love to see you shine. Look how proud and how awed I am by you. I know you can figure it out._

[-4-]

“How bad does it look? Does it look hideous? You think I’ll get any additional street cred for this?”

Ouma seemed nothing but excited as Saihara sat down beside them with a first aid kit, sighing. “Let me see.”

“Oooh, is it time to play doctor and patient? Kinky…”

“Just…gimme.” With a slightly frustrated exhale, Saihara reached out, forcefully cupped Ouma’s chin in his hand, and waited for them to turn their head. Thankfully, they complied, though they flinched a tiny bit…revealing a full view of the red, puffy mark running down their cheek and up to their lower eyelid. It was already starting to bruise towards the center, pink-purples and reds and deep blues splotched up just a bit.

Again… Again, they’d said something terrible, provoking Momota into attacking them. Momota wasn’t usually one to lose his cool, but he was especially sensitive and protective of Harukawa, which Ouma just loved to press on with all their might. This time, they’d pressed just a little too hard, though.

Saihara dabbed a cotton ball with ointment and began to softly brush it over the swollen bruise where Momota had punched them. They flinched just a bit again–it must sting.

“Ugh…I know this is just going to go in one ear and out the other, but you really shouldn’t say things like that out loud.”

“But it’s the truth! Everyone wants me to tell the truth, but then when I do, shit like this happens!”

“There’s such a thing as keeping your opinions to yourself.”

“And there’s something else called minding your own business, and you really don’t know the meaning of that, Saihara-chan.”

Saihara sighed again. Despite how bad he felt for Ouma’s injury, they really had been excessively callous. A debate about talents had escalated into Ouma eventually blurting out that it would be better for everyone if Harukawa were dead, and of course, that set Momota off. Saihara knew how much Ouma despised her, for being a killer, for her whole talent being centered around murder, even though she clearly resented it herself…but they’d taken it a little too far.

“Of course not. I told you in the beginning, didn’t I? I’d still be here to pick you up, no matter what kinds of stupid things you did.”

Ouma closed their eye while Saihara spread the ointment up closer to the edge of the injured area.

“And…I believe you  _both_  were in the wrong. You shouldn’t have said that, but Momota-kun also shouldn’t have flown off the handle and resorted to physical violence.” Moving his face closer, he examined the area, and his forehead began to pinch. “…He really hit you hard, huh? I’m glad you didn’t lose any teeth or anything.”

“ _Nishishi_! Don’t worry about me, Saihara-chan! As the leader of the entire criminal underworld, I’ve been in a  _looot_  of scrapes before. This is nothing!”

At least one part of that was true–for many reasons, maybe because of a failed prank or an accident or an angered classmate–Ouma  _did_ end up injured fairly often. It wasn’t all that unusual to see them with bandages stuck to their face or hands, bruises poking out from inside their bandanna. And in other places, Saihara had seen when they changed in front of him. It made his heart ache, because at the core of it, all he wanted was for them to be safe and secure. He couldn’t protect them sometimes–he couldn’t protect them from themself.

His fingers tenderly brushed over the lumpy forming bruise, and he cupped their whole face in his hands, gently pulling them in closer. Ouma stared back at him with curious eyes, and before he could change his mind….he did it. Leaning in, he placed a careful, tender, loving kiss over that throbbing little cheek, despite the ointment glistening on it.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Hee…” Ouma was rendered speechless. They reached up and gently touched the spot. “Y-You’re…weird.”

It was such a weak rebuttal, and Saihara knew all too well how vulnerable they could become when someone took care of them like this. Delicate little Ouma…so delicate, yet so strong.

He gave a quiet chuckle and held them reassuringly by the shoulders. After a moment, they finally accepted, snuggling into him, and he held them with all of his tender love and care.

_I am always here for you. Even when you bring it on yourself, it hurts to see you in pain. And I will always care for you, no matter what. Because I love you._

[-5-]

“You  _didn’t_. No, no, you _didn’t_. Holy  _crap_ …”

As soon as Saihara handed them the box, the telltale emblem and signature on the outside, Ouma’s eyes became enormous pools of wonderment and disbelief. “But…But I know it can’t be fake–you don’t have the cajones for that kind of fun stuff, Saihara-chan.”

“Haha…” Saihara scratched at his neck. “It’s true…”

“You seriously…” Ouma turned it over in their hands again, as if making sure it still existed. “OhmyGod… You’re crazy. But that’s why I love you so much.”

Saihara couldn’t help letting the smile tug at the corners of his mouth…because he knew how true that statement actually was.

Ouma ripped open one flap to take a peek inside…and their eyes sparkled, their whole face, their whole being lighting up with the purest joy he’d ever yet seen from them. They practically hopped in place, the excitement quivering through all of their limbs. Wow…they were just so cute like this. A wonderful little light inside wide, soulful purple eyes.

“You stay right there!” They announced, snapping their head up to Saihara again. “I’m gonna go try it on right now!”

“Yes, you should… I wanna see it on.”

“ _Nishishi_! You perrrrv…” Ouma gave him a thin, teasing smirk before turning their back and rushing to the bathroom. “Don’t move! If you move so much as a pinkie finger, I’m gonna have to punish you!”

“Okay, got it!” Saihara hummed a little and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

He’d known that Ouma wanted this for a while…so he’d taken their measurements and commissioned it from Shirogane. Despite how confident and self-assured they always projected themself as, he knew Ouma would never go to her and ask for this sort of thing on their own. So, he’d made a little gift of it. He’d tried not to clue Shirogane in on who it was actually for, but she might’ve guessed by now. As long as she didn’t spread it around, it would be alright…especially if they both wanted her to make some more.

After a few solid minutes, Saihara called out in concern, “Does it fit?!”

“Yyyyyup!” Ouma’s voice was muffled behind the door, but it was full of cheery brightness. “Alllllmost done!”

And at last, they emerged, wearing their glorious new outfit.

Since Ouma never got to dress in anything other than masculine clothes in public, they’d often expressed the desire to wear a dress. They liked both male and female-coded clothing, but they’d never gotten to wear anything female-oriented before. And now, they finally were.

Ouma’s skirt was bright pink and layered with white, their top, a pastel blue sweater with a cutesy winky face and bows. Their tights were also bright pink and covered in neon blue and white polka dots, and their chunky-heeled shoes were bright blue to sort-of match. There was a charm necklace in blues and yellows as well, and they held a rainbow-striped bow barrette in their hand. The colors were practically retina-searing, and Saihara had to briefly look away, because it was just so  _bright_  and slightly clashing. But…these were the kinds of clothes Ouma truly, honestly liked. Ones that made them burn brighter than the sun.

“You looked away, Saihara-chan…” They snickered, lifting their skirt in a half-curtsy. “What’s the matter? Am I just  _tooo_  gorgeous?”

“Of course.” He stood up and effortlessly glided to Ouma’s side. Before they could react, he plucked the bow out of their hand and slid the clip into their hair, fastening it in place. “You’re beautiful.”

And he meant it, straight from his heart. Ouma was just so beautiful… From their porcelain skin and the delicate curve of their collarbone, down to the slender lengths of their legs. The outfit was perfect on their body, holding tight and draping in all the right places. Shirogane was a master tailor, after all.

Ouma crossed their arms, though they gave the bow an appreciative poke. “Just don’t say I make a pretty girl.”

“Nope, of course not.” Saihara took his chance to hug them–a short embrace, filling his arms with sparkly sequins. “You’re a pretty Ouma-kun.”

And there was so much warmth, so much brilliant, radiant joy expressed in their face when he pulled away, he knew it was the absolute truth. They twirled and skipped and knelt on the floor, enjoying the brand-new feeling of the clothes on their body, and watching it filled Saihara’s heart with a similar joyous energy.

_No matter what, you are just so beautiful to me. You are a gorgeous sunbeam. I will do whatever you wish to make you shine like this. And see the way I shine, too, in your wonderful glow? That’s my love._

[-6-]

Gym class was the worst. It was the absolute worst. Though he’d been gaining muscle recently, Saihara still hated to run.  And Ouma was the opposite–speedy and nimble, but unable to finish more than one push-up. And then…things like  _this_  came up.

Though it didn’t bother them most of the time, Ouma was one of the shortest in their class. The only two smaller than them were Ryoma and Himiko. And it became painfully obvious during physical activity. They couldn’t reach the pull-up bar without a boost. They couldn’t score in basketball without crawling onto Gonta’s shoulders. Even while jumping, they couldn’t return a volleyball serve. They needed the step-up block to get onto the balance beam.

There were advantages to being small, of course–their size and speed made them a master of dodgeball, and they could easily fit into hiding places, which they frequently used to scare people. But every now and then, it did seem to wear at them.

Saihara and Ouma were alone in the locker room, and Ouma had yet to change back into their uniform. Saihara always waited until the other boys left before he changed, but now, it was okay for Ouma to be here too, and it was almost comforting. Plus, he had to admit that they were particularly cute in their gym shorts and T-shirt, both a little too big for their body.

Ouma sighed and leaned forward on the locker room bench, their head nearly dipping between their legs. “You have such a nice body, Saihara-chan, I’m jealous.”

“Waaagh–!” It still made Saihara flustered to hear things like this, and he could already feel the blush on his face. “N-No, no! No, I don’t! That’s…why do you say that?! You have a nice body too, Ouma-kun!”

“ _Nishishi_! Don’t lie like that…it doesn’t look good on you.” Ouma tilted their head as they looked up at him. “Your legs are long and sturdy, your arms are getting nice and toned, even your a–”

“St-Stop, stop!” Saihara quickly cut them off. “I…I get it.” He took a deep breath, composing himself and trying to soothe the jittery feeling. “Thank you. But…I definitely wasn’t lying. Or just trying to be nice. Your body is great, too.”

“Pff.” Ouma sat up again and blew one of their bangs out of their eyes. “What’s so great about it? I’m a shrimp, and not even the endearing kind of baby-doll shrimp, like Ryoma is. And everyone keeps asking if i’m eating enough, cause I’m a scrawny chicken and I look sick all the time, even when I’m not.”

Saihara couldn’t listen to any more of this. He plopped down beside them on the bench, fixing them with a serious stare. They looked back and laughed.

“Ahaha, that’s a lie, though! Like, seriously, you think I’d care about that stuff?! I’m the Supreme Leader of the world! Such stupid, petty concerns are completely beneath me!”

And before they could say another self-harming word, Saihara held them close…and pulled them into his lap.

“Ah! L-Let go!” They struggled against his grasp. “I already told you a thousand times! I am not to be treated like some child! Just because I’m small, it doesn’t give you the right to–”

“Shhhhh…” Saihara rested his chin on the top of their head…then tilted it down, planting a tiny kiss right there at their scalp. And that successfully shut them up.

Ouma grumbled and muttered a little bit, but went silent as Saihara bundled them into his arms.

“Shhhh. You’re perfect. See how well you fit like this? It’s like you were made to fit in my arms.”

“Saihara-chaaaaaan,” they whined, even though they turned, burying their face in his shoulder and accepting the embrace. “But what if I wanna be the bigger spoon sometimes, huuuuuh? I hate that you always take that for yourself! You’re so selfish!”

“Then we can switch off every now and then if you really want…” Saihara’s lips smirked against the fluff of Ouma’s hair. “But I think that’s another lie.”

“Dammit…you got me.” Even in the tight hold, Ouma managed to turn their head…and press a kiss at his jaw in return.

The touch, the soft feeling that spread inside him…it was just too much. He was going to let it out. “…And if you were any different, then I wouldn’t be able to do  _this_!”

Gathering all of his strength, Saihara lifted from the bench…and pulled Ouma with him, sweeping them up and holding them folded in his arms.

“A-Ah, no!” They stuttered, trying to bury their blush in his shoulder again.

Saihara chuckled and rubbed up over their back. With all of the mirth in his heart, he moved to an open space…and twirled Ouma around, hugging them close, nuzzling his head against theirs. They both fell into joyful, secure, loving laughter, gentle touches and heartfelt little kisses.

“You…really are getting strong, huh?” Ouma fondly whispered. “It’s so wondrous.”

Saihara rocked back and forth, shifting them up over his shoulder. They chuckled and clung on around his neck, nuzzling the back of his head. “No…it’s just that you were made perfect for cuddling and holding like this. You were made to be loved.”

Ouma closed their eyes, absolutely content, and Saihara cradled them, even as he began to walk back to his locker.

_You are perfect, just the way you are. Why else would I hold you like this? If your tiny body wasn’t the most precious thing to me…why else would I hold it with such care and reverence and affection? I love it. I love you._

[-7-]

“So……do you finally believe me?”

After all this time, after all these little incidents, Ouma and Saihara were once again snuggled close in Saihara’s bed. Neither of them was exactly ready to take the relationship to the next level yet, but they still loved to “sleep together”, in the purest and most basic meaning of that phrase. They both felt so much safer, calmer, and happier tucked against each other under the soft bedcovers. Right beside the one they truly loved.

In the soft, dim light, Ouma gave a tiny, true smile, and Saihara tenderly brushed a lock of their purple-tinged hair. “Do you get it now?” He asked…but he knew the answer already.

Even just a little, Ouma’s trembling had begun to smooth away. They didn’t freeze up as much when Saihara touched them or kissed them on his own. Of course, it was going to take a long, long time to fully work through all of their insecurities. But they were beginning to accept it. They were finally, finally beginning to accept it.

Ouma shifted closer and pressed their lips, their whole essence, briefly against Saihara’s, an ethereal spark passing through both of them. “God…” They whispered in return. “What did I do in my past life to ever deserve an angel like you…?”

“Ahaha… You were…yourself.”

There was one last thing. One final way Saihara wanted to prove his love. It didn’t come naturally to him, so he’d had to work himself up to it. But if he truly wanted to express the utmost, deepest feelings of his heart…he would. He absolutely would.

He reached out, taking in every piece of his beautiful little trickster. Caressing their soft hair, their smooth white cheek, their slender, delicate neck, their round little shoulder, all the way down to the ends of their elegant fingers. He rested a hand at their chest, feeling their quickening heartbeat–the pulse of a life that meant everything to him. And their eyes…majestic, twinkling purple, holding within them so much emotion and so much love of their own.

Saihara pulled them in, tucking their head over his shoulder, and at last, at last, he gently whispered, a sweet breath against their cheek, his determined voice never wavering. “I love you. I love you so much…my Kokichi.”

For a second…for just a second, they froze. Of course…they hadn’t been expecting it. And that made it all the more heartwarming. Warm silence.

Ouma clung to Saihara’s shoulderblades, hands tripping just a little bit. “S-S…S-Say it again…?” And never in a million years would he refuse.

“Kokichi.”

Kokichi. It was such a cute name. A little bit of luck. Just a tiny miracle. He loved it so, so much.

A tiny, warm pool of wetness was spreading over his neck. Pulling back, Kokichi showed him… There were clear trails of tears slipping down their porcelain cheeks, but their smile, their eyes… It was the most breathtaking sight Saihara had ever beheld. The warmth and love and overwhelming joy glowing from their pure, true soul, gently stripped of all its masking layers of falsity, all its self-protective walls… The very, very core of their being, finally, freely given up to him. A blessing no one else had ever received.

“I love you… I love you too…” They fought through the overpowering feelings, speaking in the softest, most genuine, most heartfelt voice. “I love you so, so much… I love you, S-Shuichi.”

And Shuichi found himself crying, too. Crying with too much happiness.

Kisses–gentle kisses followed, so many, neither of them could count. Sopping wet kisses and breathy chuckles and rosy cheeks. The genuine, reciprocated love right here between them was nothing short of heaven.

_Kokichi loves me. And I will never let them forget how much I love them, too. Never, ever, ever. My precious, brilliant, beautiful, sweet little Kokichi… I want to be here, by your side…for all of my life. And I know…I see…the feeling of love you now know to be true._

_This truth will always live here between us, in our hearts. I promise. Forever._  


End file.
